


Remembrance

by vergilia_43



Category: Ancient History RPF, Classical Greece and Rome History & Literature RPF, Dead Romans Society (Webcomic)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Feelings, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Jealousy, Light Angst, M/M, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Doubt, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Indulgent, Swearing, Working Out My Feelings Through Fic, catullus/ovid if you squint, vent fic, writing is how i deal with rejection fuck off
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:20:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24067228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vergilia_43/pseuds/vergilia_43
Summary: New arrivals aren’t recognizing Catullus, but they are recognizing Cicero. Catullus is jealous. Ovid tells him it’ll be okay.
Relationships: Gaius Valerius Catullus & Publius Ovidius Naso, Gaius Valerius Catullus/Publius Ovidius Naso
Kudos: 6





	Remembrance

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Dead Romans Society](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/617575) by chelidonart on tumblr. 



When Catullus feels himself brushed aside in favor of Cicero, Cicero, of all people, he knows it’s not his fault. But goddamn did it hit him where it hurts. 

See, new arrivals don’t know who Catullus is, and they haven’t for a long time. (His works are lost to Europe at the moment, and they will be rediscovered in a century or so, but Catullus doesn’t know this.) He’s only as egotistical as any poet has to be to survive, but he didn’t get into the business for his own health. He likes to impress, to be seen for what he can do and to be admired. Cicero is an old coot with stitched-on hands and head and he is so much more popular.

Catullus will let Cicero deal with the new kid, then. He’ll leave them to get along, form the basis of a long afterlife friendship, while he sits on a hill and watches. He is definitely not bitter that Cicero has achieved a place in their memories and he has not. Why would he be bitter?

He sits against the solitary tree on the hill’s crest and briefly contemplates throwing his toga around his head dramatically. Then again— he glances around—no one is watching, so there’s no point in being ostentatious now. Oh, how he suffers for his art!

A short while later (or maybe a long time— time is immaterial here just like them), Ovid comes along. “You look miserable,” he says bluntly, then sits down next to Catullus. “What’s going on?”

“ _Cicero_ is what’s going on” was barely an explanation and Catullus knew it. He sighed. 

“The spirits that come down here don’t know who I am. They’ve forgotten my work and instead they know Cicero. Was what I wrote in life not good enough? Sure, it has its flaws. Could’ve used some more specific gestures, some more burning ships and airy spirits, sure. But I guess it just isn’t that good when you get right down to it, because  _ he _ can up and take my spot so easily. Great for him. Less work for me, right? And maybe I’m just selfish, but he’s always outshone me. I can’t bear to see him doing so well when I’m not.”

Ovid put one arm around Catullus’s shoulders. “Just because he is talented doesn’t mean you aren’t. Sure, he’s a little bit older, he writes… for a different audience, let’s just say, and he’s had the luxury to study Latin under some of the best. But Cicero can’t do everything here. There will always be more souls passing through than one man can deal with—“

“Lucretius helps him—“

“—fuck Lucretius, okay, we both know he’s just helping count for the census. Cicero being well-known doesn’t mean you can’t learn from him. 

“I don’t know why mortals aren’t reading your work, Gaius. But I’ve read it, and I have a suspicion that it’s not you who is the problem. That can be hard to believe, I know. To be a poet, you have to be confident enough in yourself to believe in the righteousness of your work’s existence, but you also have to be vulnerable enough to feel the feelings that make you write in the first place.”

Catullus smiled slightly. “I think it’s going to be hard for me to accept that I’m still worthy, especially when I have to see Cicero and the new ones getting acquainted all the time.”

“Of course it’ll be hard. But you won’t be doing it alone.” Ovid pulled Catullus a little closer so he could squeeze his shoulder. 

“Thank you, Ovid.”

“Any time. Now, are you going to stop stalking them from the top of this hill, or are you going to come with me?” Catullus took Ovid’s hand. No answer was needed.

**Author's Note:**

> this is me venting and it sure reads like it


End file.
